Duck Shorts
by Lyndal
Summary: Various short stories about everyone's favourite team: The Mighty Ducks.
1. Father and Son

Title: Father and Son

Rating: K+

* * *

"Dad?"

Adam Banks looks up and feels like he's looking into the mirror back in his childhood bedroom in Edina, Minnesota. Of course, he's no longer in Minnesota and he's sure that another child in another family has taken up residence in the room he once called his own. 'Mini Adam' had slight differences to child Adam. While the colouring – dirty blonde hair, pale skin, and grey eyes – was the same, it was the shape of the face in general that was different and ironically hawk-like. The eleven-year-old boy looked at Adam expectantly, waiting for a response.

"What is it?" Adam asked; the spell that sent him back to his childhood broken. The boy shifted nervously.

"I don't really wanna play hockey," the boy said cautiously. Adam motioned for his son to follow him, and they both sat down on the couch in the living room.

"I love watching hockey," the boy continued, "but I don't wanna play anymore."

"How come?" Adam asked, "it seemed like you were really enjoying it out there."

The boy shook his head, "The coach expects me to be this hot-shot player and I'm not."

The unspoken inference was loud and clear to Adam – _the coach expects me to be this hot-shot player like you_.

"Do you feel you have to be?" Adam asked his son. The boy returned with a confused look.

"When I was not much older than you were, I used to play on a Peewee team called the Hawks. They hardly ever lost, and won championship after championship. Your uncle played for them, as did many of our friends. However one day they told me I couldn't play for the Hawks anymore," Adam explained.

"That sucks!" the boy replied, "that's not fair!"

"You're right," Adam replied, "at the time I felt it wasn't fair, but if I didn't play for the other team then I couldn't play at all. Your grandfather was furious, and he tried to make it so I'd stay with the Hawks."

"Did it work?"

Adam shook his head, "No, so I showed up to the next game and the new team hated my guts – I'd done a lot of stupid stuff to them."

"Oh," his son was disappointed.

"That's not the point of the story though," Adam explained, "as time went on and I began to get to know the team things became great. We kept winning and all of a sudden we're in the playoffs and in our final game we had to play against my old team. I got knocked out during the second period and had to go to hospital – my old team mates were told to take me out of the game."

"But weren't they your friends?"

"They were once," Adam conceded, "but my new team proved to be greater friends than I could've ever hoped to have. If we had done things my father's way, then I would never have become friends with your honorary aunts and uncles. I also would've never gone to the Junior Goodwill Games, or went to the school I went to, or even got into the NHL. The point is, you don't have to do what everyone else expects you to do – you need to do what you think is right for you."

The boy smiled at his father and threw his arms around him. "Thanks dad, so you'll let me quit hockey?"

"If that's what you want," Adam replied as he returned the embrace, "all I want for you is to enjoy whatever it is you want to do."

* * *

Author's Note: Its been a long time since I wrote anything of any substance, especially for this fandom. I'm planning for this to be a series of mostly unrelated shorts with various themes and pairings (or not...).

This short was inspired by the interaction between Adam and Phillip Banks during D1/Champions. The bit that really got me was the idea around tradition, especially the scene where Ducksworth tries to get Bombay to withdraw the complaint about the 'incorrect' district lines; the argument being that because Adam's brother and friends are/were Hawks then Adam should remain as one even though its against the league regulations. So fast-forward a number of years and Adam's son faces something similar: just because the father was a great player, does it mean the son has to be as well?


	2. Wakeup Call

Title: Wake-up Call

Rating: K+

* * *

It was mid-evening, and Casey was clearing up the kitchen after dinner. Her husband was helping dry and put away the dishes as the phone rang. Placing down the dish towel he answered the phone.

"Casey," he said, "Gordon on the phone for you."

Casey nodded and dried her hands, taking the phone from her husband. They had met soon after Casey and Gordon broke off their romantic relationship in favour of friendship, and her husband was more than happy to include Gordon in their set of friends – especially as Charlie looked up to him and would have nothing much to do with his new step-father except keep a cordial relationship for his mother's sake.

"How has it been?" Bombay asked.

"We've definitely seen better days;" Casey quipped tiredly, "Charlie is being difficult."

"Difficult?" Bombay enquired, "How so?"

"I just wish I knew what has gotten into Charlie lately," Casey said into the phone, "he's been arrogant, angry, and just plain sullen!"

"Casey he's fourteen-years-old," Bombay explained, "and he's going through a lot of changes lately."

Casey sighed, "When he broke his stick on the goal at the game the other week I was frightened – I couldn't stop thinking about what it could mean!"

"He's not going to turn into a juvenile delinquent over night, especially not over a hockey game," Bombay replied.

"That's just it," Casey retorted, "he skipped school today, I got a phone call from the Disciplinarian Teacher."

"Charlie skipped?" Bombay said incredulously, "how come?"

"I think he got into an argument with Coach Orion," Casey replied.

Bombay shook his head and sighed, "Has he said anything to you?"

"Just that he hates Eden Hall and Coach Orion," Casey explained, "though I did remind him that he hated you just as much when you started coaching Peewee."

Bombay laughed quietly at the memory, "I deserved that though, Ted doesn't."

"Yeah," Casey replied, "Coach Orion may be pushing the kids, but I do believe he has their best interests at heart; educational- and hockey-wise."

"Do you want me to come round and talk to him?" Bombay asked after a few moments.

"I would appreciate it Gordon," Casey replied, "he doesn't listen to a thing his step-father says and I doubt at the moment he'd listen to me."

"I'll be down tomorrow morning," Gordon explained.

"Thank you Gordon," Casey said, "my shift starts at six am, so come round at five-thirty and I'll let you in."

"See you tomorrow Casey," Gordon answered. He knew exactly what would bring Charlie around, and an early morning visit to the Eden Hall ice rink to see the 'other' side to Ted Orion would be a good start.

* * *

Author's Note: This is how I'd see Bombay setting up for the scene in D3 where he and Charlie discuss Orion (what I call Charlie-gets-a-wake-up-call). Like in D2, the identity of Casey's husband is left ambiguous.


	3. Linda

Title: Linda

Rating: T

* * *

"Conway has just gotten checked into the boards, and he's not getting up!" called the commentator as the refs called a stop to the game and for the medics to step in. I could sense Casey – Charlie's mum – on her feet next to me, looking worried. I was on my feet too, and I began to pull Casey towards the rink gate where the medics had entered onto the ice. The game was the season opener between the Eden Hall JV Ducks and the Blake JV Bears – a traditional prep school rivalry between the two academies. Last year's opener had been a tie, and also the first hockey game I had ever gone to. This game was nothing like that one. It had been brutal from the start, the Bears wanting to punish the Ducks for their win in the divisional championship last season.

We reached the gate and waited as the medics helped Charlie to his feet. He looked dazed, and his face was a blotchy mix of red and pale from the exertion of the game as well as the hit he'd just taken. The crowd was clapping as the medics and Charlie made it to the gate, and Charlie's face lit up in a lop-sided grin.

"Hi mum, hi Linda," he said, his voice betraying how woozy he probably felt. Casey shook her head, her red curls seemingly exaggerating the movement.

"We'll take him to the locker room for observation," the medic told Casey. Casey nodded and together we followed the trio into the JV locker room. The medics helped Charlie to sit on the bench, and one sat next to him taking his pulse as the other brought over the trolley that kept the medical supplies for the team. The medic with the trolley produced a bucket and sat it next to Charlie, stating "Just in case." The medic taking Charlie's pulse let go of his wrist and wrote down the observations, and then busied herself with shining a light into his eyes. After a few minutes, the female medic left the locker room to return to the game and the male medic stayed to keep an eye on Charlie. I sat where the female medic previously did and Charlie laid his head onto my shoulder. His hair was still sweaty, which caused his hair to curl more than normal.

"My head hurts" Charlie stated. I looked over to the medic who explained that the headache was due to the concussion, and that some short-term memory loss could also be expected. Casey sat down on Charlie's other side, holding the bucket in her lap.

"This isn't the first time Charlie's had a concussion," Casey explained, "one of the hazards of playing hockey."

"I'll be fine mum," Charlie said, his voice sounding more stable than before. By this time the team loped in, the second period having ended. There were choruses of 'Hey Ms Conway' and 'Hey Linda', as well as 'How's it going Charlie?' The medic rushed over to Guy Germaine's side, apparently a check had made an old shoulder injury flare up and their coach wanted it strapped to prevent injury. According to Charlie he was one of the three most injured players on the team – Adam Banks and Les Averman being the other two routinely needing a medic at some point during the season. Adam and Guy, from what I understood, were prime targets due to their skill while Averman tended to find himself in the boards due to his tendency to annoy opposing players during face-offs – that's not to say his hockey skills were lacking either!

I looked around at the team. Over the past year they'd become a new set of friends for me, something I never thought possible. For one, I didn't have many friends anyway and at first I thought it was because they were being nice for Charlie's sake. I was the new girlfriend, someone who had nothing much to do with hockey besides watch her boyfriend play. I was also the girl notorious for not liking jocks, and as a freshman joined the cause to get the school to change the team name from the Eden Hall Warriors. I suppose that's what's similar about Charlie and I, we both couldn't conform to the idea of being 'Warriors'. Charlie and the team were Ducks, and I wasn't really sure what I was. That was until Julie and Connie pulled me aside after one of their post-season practices and demanded that I spend the afternoon with them – they weren't about to take 'no' for an answer. I had looked over at Charlie and saw a bemused expression on his face. He obviously wasn't expecting his two female team mates to want to monopolise his new girlfriend's time – time that we would've otherwise spent at his place watching a movie. The girls and I walked over to their dorm. Halfway through freshman year all the Ducks had decided to move onto campus to cut down commuting time, and I was pretty much forced to move in as my parents were moving out of Minneapolis and wanted me to stay at Eden Hall.

Connie invited me to sit on her bed while she and Julie settled on Julie's bed. I felt uncomfortable, and Julie could sense that. She reached out a hand and placed it reassuringly on one of mine.

"We're not gonna bite," Julie announced.

"No," Connie agreed, "but Julie may scratch." This earned her a shove from the blonde, who was laughing all the same.

"We just wanted to formally welcome you," Connie continued, "we figure that since you and Charlie are together, you'll be around a lot more."

"It's kinda hard to break into the group," Julie explained, "when I first met the Ducks they were terribly 'cliquey', but they had mostly played together since childhood with the exception of Fulton and Adam."

I nodded, Charlie had told me the story behind the Ducks and why they tended to stick together and stand up for each other more than I ever saw Varsity do for each other. Their previous coach taught them about team work and how it was important to have fun together. Charlie had explained that the Ducks possibly took it too far, and seemed to live in each others lives more often than most friends would've. They also took some things a little too personally, like Adam's move onto Varsity – although since the JV-Varsity showdown he was back permanently with the JV team.

"Once we all got to know each other, it became much easier," Julie continued.

"Besides," Connie added, "you're pretty cool, and it's nice to have a friend who isn't male and isn't obsessed about hockey,"

"Or ranching," Julie said. Connie grinned.

"Thank you, I guess," I said, unnerved. The girls gave me a kind smile.

"We mean it," Julie said.

"And don't think we're doing this for our big-headed captain," Connie announced, "even if you were to break up with him tomorrow, we'd still wanna be your friend."

I got to know the girls' quite well before I had managed to meet the other guys formally. Julie's upbringing was similar to mine: upper-middle class family living in the suburbs, but while Julie got into hockey, I was more interested in books. However, I already knew from English Lit classes that Julie also had an interest in literature. Connie, like me, had lived in the Twin Cities area for her whole life, but was from a working class family. Hockey was the way for her to cement her identity as a tomboy, and to set herself apart from her sisters. Her sisters' influence showed in her feminine style of dress and the way she meticulously cared for her near-waist length brunette hair. It was also how she met many of her friends, including her childhood sweetheart Guy – who after much speculation of the nature of the Connie-and-Guy relationship confirmed that their 'cooling' during freshman year had not equalled a break-up of the premiere Duck couple. Connie was one of the few at Eden Hall who knew Charlie the best, and also the longest. She had pulled out her photo album to show shots of the team when they used to, in her words, suck. Julie added her album of the team at the Junior Goodwill Games and I heard the story of how Charlie gave up his roster spot for Adam and helped coached the team through one of their toughest games.

"He may be pig-headed at times, and instigator of some of the most disgusting pranks I've ever seen, but he's modest and has a heart of gold," Connie explained. It was then I learnt that Charlie was the cause of the 'Horse Turd Brownie' incident during our first week of freshman year. Pretty soon after the ant-attack on the Varsity dorms – which the Ducks swore black-and-blue wasn't them – the school began to be wary of getting onto the bad side of the Ducks, lest they be on the receiving end of a prank.

During the summer between freshman and sophomore year, I spent more time with the Minnesota-based Ducks. Julie was spending a month in Minneapolis with the Moreaus, especially to spend time with Scott "Scooter" Vanderbilt who was going to college at the end of the summer. I also stayed with the Moreaus with Julie, and the three of us camped out in Connie's bedroom unless we were out with the other Ducks, or in Julie's case, Scooter. By the time sophomore year started, I had gotten to know them all at least well enough to carry on a decent conversation. Which lead me to where we were today; sitting in the locker room with Casey Conway, and Charlie with his head on my shoulder.

"Don't worry Linds," Dean Portman announced from his spot across from Charlie, "me and Fulton creamed the guy who got Charlie."

The first time I saw Dean was during the JV-Varsity game in freshman year. For undisclosed reasons he hadn't accepted his scholarship until a few days before that game, but once he was at Eden Hall he caused quite a stir. A fifteen-year-old stripping off his hockey gear until he was bare-chested was something the prep school crowd probably never saw until Portman blazed his way onto the ice during the third period. It drove the women in the crowd wild. It was Portman that gave me my first nickname – Linds.

Fulton Reed sat next to him. I liked Fulton, and I could tell that he and Charlie had a very close friendship. While Portman was a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy, Fulton tended to be a bit more reserved and only starting something he thought was justified. The dark haired boy grinned at me and Charlie, "You alright dude?" he asked. Charlie made a non-committal grunt, placing the hand that wasn't attached to my own on his head.

"You know concussions," Casey said to Fulton, "Charlie's gonna have a ringer of a headache for the next day or so."

Coach Orion began to give the in-between period pep-talk, praising their two-way plays but expressing his frustration at them giving away too many power plays. Soon enough it was time for the team to go back onto the ice, and they each gave Charlie a pat on the shoulder as they filed out from the dressing room. During the third period Charlie managed to go get himself changed and was sitting waiting for the team with his mum and me.

"Hail the conquering heroes!" Averman sang as the team re-entered the dressing room, all talking loudly and animatedly. Eden Hall had cemented their dominance over Blake's JV team, which would mean another grudge match once the two met again. The medics checked over Charlie once again as the team rushed for the showers, and instructed Casey to visit the emergency room if it things got more serious. Charlie's room mate Russ Tyler promised that he would also do the same as Charlie was adamant in spending the weekend in the dorms. As the game was at Eden Hall, Casey walked with us back to the dorms before she had to leave for work.

Later that day, as the celebrations were winding down and the usual Saturday night activities were beginning Charlie pulled me into his room. Russ was out on a date with a girl he met through their former team mate Jesse Hall and wouldn't be back until closer to curfew.

"You OK?" I asked as Charlie sank onto his bed and proceeded to take his trainers off.

"Yeah I'll be fine," he explained, "it was a pretty minor concussion."

He stretched out on his bed, and motioned for me to join him. I discarded my own shoes before settling in next to Charlie. The bed was a standard-issue single, slightly longer and wider than average to accommodate the boys' growing beyond six foot. Despite that, it was still essential to lie very close to the other person to avoid falling off. No wonder so many teenage movies and stories depict dorm rooms as prime places to make out or go further.

"Is it scary?" I asked. Charlie made a noise that indicated he wanted elaboration. "To have a concussion?"

"First time it was," Charlie replied, "I remember I felt pretty sick. I don't think I've ever passed out for any length of time, maybe a few moments at the most."

He was playing with my hair, twisting it between thumb and forefinger then running his fingers through to straighten it out again. Charlie always seemed to do that when he was thinking.

"Were you scared?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Sort of," I admitted, "I've seen your team mates injured and concussed, but never you."

He manoeuvred his head so that he could gently kiss my lips, his bright blue eyes staring into mine after. I'd have to admit it was Charlie's eyes that first drew me in; the colour as well as the kind yet mischievous gleam they gave off. No wonder I didn't notice he was a 'jock' until he told me he was in the hockey team. It was very lucky that we had that second meeting, where he spent nearly the whole bus ride from Eden Hall to downtown talking about anything that came into his head. In the past year I had seen his best and worst sides, and I was happy that Charlie's best side usually won out. He was moody, argumentative, and stubborn when his bad side came out.

"Hey Charlie!" called Dwayne as he burst through the door. Charlie winced, his head most likely still sore from the concussion.

"Oh, sorry Charlie, Linda," Dwayne said, "Adam sent me up to ask if ya'll wanted to come watch the movie they're puttin' on?"

"Nah man," Charlie replied, "thanks for the offer though."

Dwayne said his goodbyes and left. Charlie sighed and went to stand up.

"Wait," I said, "you know you're not allowed to lock that door when you have a girl in your room!"

"So?" Charlie replied, "it's not like we're gonna do anything."

"Well we both know that," I said, "doesn't mean we won't both get in trouble if someone does come around to check."

Regardless, Charlie stood and padded over to the door, locking it before switching off the light and returning to the bed and settling in beside me once again. He reached over and turned the bedside lamp on and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as he did.

"I just need to rest my eyes for a minute, Linda," Charlie explained, "If I fall asleep, wake me up before curfew."

"Ok," I replied, turning so we were both lying face-to-face. Charlie wrapped his arms around me before pulling me closer so my head was tucked under his chin. I must've also closed my eyes because the next thing I knew Russ had unlocked the door and was shrugging out of his coat.

"Enjoying your nap there, sleeping beauties?" Russ said softly, not wanting to wake up Charlie who had slept through the not-so-quiet entry.

"How was the date?" I asked. Russ shrugged, "You know, it was nice and we might go again next week."

I wriggled out of Charlie's grasp and noted the time on the alarm clock. It was ten pm, and curfew began at ten-thirty. I shook Charlie awake, and he slowly opened his eyes and looked blearily around the room. Understanding why he was woken up, Charlie stood and clumsily searched for his shoes. Once our shoes were on, he walked me to the door of my dorm room on the next floor up. All the dorms at Eden Hall were designed in a similar way with the ground floor that consisted of the laundry and the common room, the second floor housing the boys, and the third housing the girls along with the 'house mum' whose job it was to enforce curfew, amongst other things.

"See you tomorrow?" I asked as we got to my door.

"Yeah," Charlie said, trying to stifle a yawn. I smiled as I embraced him, and we kissed lightly before pulling apart. "I love you," Charlie said, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I smiled back and replied that I loved him too. I watched as he walked to the stairs and disappeared to the floor below. Smiling, I went into my own room and saw my room mate looking at me over her book, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Didn't see you downstairs with the team," she commented. This was a usual conversation between us, with her attempting to wheedle any gossip out of me.

"Yes, that's because Charlie and I were making passionate love," I commented dryly.

"Yeah?" my room mate asked, sitting up and looking interested.

"No!" I scoffed, "my answer is the same as always – we're fifteen!"

"You are no fun, Linda Chavez," she replied, flopping back onto her pillows and replacing the book in front of her face. Sighing, I changed into my pyjamas and climbed into my own bed. As the resounding call for 'lights out' came and my room mate put her book down and switched off our lamp, I pulled the covers further up and closed my eyes. That night I fell asleep knowing that, in the morning; Connie and Julie would pull me over so they could ask me about the 'details', Russ would joke about the 'sleeping beauties' in his dorm room, and Charlie would sit there shaking his head while throwing an arm around my shoulder. It was great to have friends like the Ducks.

* * *

Author's Note: I've always wanted to explore the Linda/Ducks dynamic, although it does seem unrealistic that she'd get along with everyone. Linda would also be one of my favourite non-Duck characters, and I enjoy experimenting and giving her a voice.


	4. To the End

Title: To the end

Rating: K+

Author Note: Best read listening to "To the end/La Comedie" by Blur and Francoise Hardy, which can be found on Youtube.

* * *

_You and I collapsed in love._

"This is really it, isn't it?" Connie said quietly, turning her head to face the blonde teenager sitting next to her. The blonde nodded, staring straight ahead to avoid the brunette's gaze. She let out a sigh.

"For what it's worth, I really thought it was gonna work out Connie," Guy said.

"I get it Guy," Connie replied, "we grew up; maybe it was natural that we'd both grow apart too."

The two eighteen year olds fell silent. There was once a time where the two were inseparable, back when thoughts of college and careers were distant concerns. Their friends always knew to look for one of the two to also find the other, and they always seemed to take it for granted that the two would stay together. Once upon a time, Connie was daydreaming of becoming Mrs Guy Germaine, and Guy imagined waking up next to the brunette girl. They were children, and in love. They felt invincible.

"Remember the time at that North Stars game?" Guy said, breaking the silence. He could see Connie nodding her head in his peripheral. "Sometimes I wish it could've stayed like that."

"Yeah," Connie replied, "to be young and discovering love."

Guy grinned sadly. "I'm glad you were my girlfriend."

Connie smiled in return, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Guy moved his hands from where they were sitting on the bench to hold one of Connie's own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We shared a lot together, didn't we?" Connie mused, "I don't think I could ever forget any of it."

Their hands slipped apart, and Connie stood. Guy could see a tear make a track from her eye, over her cheek.

"Keep in touch?" Connie asked, turning to face Guy once again.

"I will," Guy said. The two laughed briefly, and smiled. Guy watched as Connie walked away, feeling strangely empty.

_It looks like we've made it to the end._


	5. Only for You

Title: Only For You

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Mighty Ducks Disney franchise. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction. (Same applies to the previous chapters…)

Thanks to: galindapopular, Vancouver Canucks Fan 3377 (you've changed your penname?), and 'Denise Malfoy' for the reviews! Also, to anyone who has been reading/lurking so far (please review..?)

* * *

"You sure you don't wanna come, man?" Russ asked Guy. The blonde shook his head, not looking up from his book. "Your loss," Russ replied, "Don't wait up."

The first social event of the Eden Hall Academy calendar was the back-to-school dance, held in the gymnasium. It wasn't the most formal event on the list, and as a consequence it was a little more laid-back. Guy had decided that he didn't want to go, that a dance wasn't 'his thing'. Besides, he wasn't in a mood to watch his team have fun, while he would sit in the corner and watch. The Ducks had tried to get him to go along with them, promising him that he would have fun. Guy, however, had stood his ground. They eventually left him alone about it, with Russ putting in his final words just before leaving the dorm.

Guy settled on his bed with a book that he had borrowed from the library, and lost himself in a fantasy world of magic and otherworldly creatures. As he read he changed positions; relieving the strain on his arms, back, and neck. He was stretched out on his stomach, his legs bent at the knees and ankles crossed when a frantic knock sounded at the door.

"Yeah?" Guy asked, not looking up from his book. He was annoyed at the intrusion, and hoped whoever it was would go away so he could continue to read in peace. Luis opened the door swiftly, panting as he entered the room.

"We need ya man," Luis gasped, "Connie's missing and Julie thinks she's drunk or something."

Guy put his book down, twisting to face Luis. The concerned look on the face of the Latino boy caused him to put his book down and pull his jumper off the ground, then over his head. He soon found himself following Luis out of the dorms, and towards the gym. The other Ducks were waiting – minus Connie – and looked relieved at Guy's arrival.

"Right," Charlie said, turning into level-headed and practical captain mode, "Julie said she last saw Connie half an hour ago, and that she said she was heading back to the dorms cuz she was feeling sick."

"She looked like she was drunk," Julie said, "and I was going to ask her to wait for me, but she left before I could stop her."

"We need to split up," Charlie stated, "check everywhere between here and the sophomore dorm, Julie go check your dorm again in case Connie's there. We'll meet back at the sophomore dorms."

The Ducks nodded, and split into different directions, which Charlie and Julie heading towards the dorms. Guy began to walk, and soon found himself near one of the ivy-covered disused gardener's sheds. He could hear a quiet whimpering, and followed the sound.

'It's probably a couple making-out,' he thought to himself, slightly nauseated by the fact he could potentially be interrupting more than just a make-out session. 'Why anyone would wanna lose it here, I dunno.'

The flaking wooden door was sitting ajar, its lock long broken from the years of disrepair. Guy swung the door open slowly, and at first couldn't see anything in the darkness. The old shed had no light, and Guy had to rely on the dim light of the almost-full moon.

"This spot is taken, get lost!" a rough voice commanded. Guy almost closed the door and walked away, however the sound of a familiar voice slurring for help made him stop.

"Don't worry baby," the rough voice soothed, "I'll give you all the help you need."

"Get off her," Guy growled, his usually light nasally voice dropping into a dangerous tone. The owner of the voice stood, and Guy could see that it was one of the seniors who played for the baseball team.

"Oh look," the senior taunted, "a Duck without his flock, and one of the weaker ones at that."

Guy's eyes narrowed. He may have been one of the smaller guys on the team – only currently reaching five-eight – but he was by no means one of the 'weaker' ones. He had grown up roughing with the other boys in his neighbourhood, and then the goons on the ice. He knew how to use his slim statue to his advantage, even if he wasn't being aided by ice and skates, a stick, and covered in padding.

"Leave. Her. Alone," Guy growled, pronouncing each word slowly. His fists were clenched in anger, and in readiness for an attack.

"Make me," the senior growled, lunging at the blonde. Guy dodged, then faked a move to the right as the senior wheeled around for another attack. Taking the fake move, the senior found himself sprawled on the ground. He got up, sizing his opponent up once again. He ran at Guy, who took a leaf out of Portman's book and bent double at the last second, causing the senior to flip over him. The senior once again lunged at Guy as he stood, catching the blonde in the stomach with his fist. Guy bent double, winded, and the senior took the opportunity to grab Guy by the hair. The senior smirked at the look of pain on his opponent's face, but the expression quickly changed as Guy sent a fist into his stomach. Both teenagers began to throw fists at each other, catching jaws, cheeks, arms, and stomachs. Guy was soon able to overcome the senior, using their momentum to throw the bigger teen to the ground. The senior attempted to get up once more, falling to the ground in pain after a few attempts. Guy only stood for a moment to catch his breath and savour his victory.

"Connie," he breathed, racing into the shed and finding Connie sprawled on the bare floor. He placed a hand on her cheek. "Connie, are you alright? Speak to me!"

"Guy?" she mumbled thickly, turning her face further into the warm hand on her cheek.

"Let's get you out of here," Guy said, hauling Connie into a sitting position so he could help her to her feet. She flopped tonelessly against him, and Guy swept the brunette into his arms. He could smell Connie's usual perfume – a vanilla and peach combination she only wore on 'special' occasions – but couldn't smell the alcohol it was claimed she had drank. Anger rose in Guy's chest again, quickly quelled by an uncharacteristic giggle from Connie.

"When did you get so cool?" she asked, her words slurred. She grinned at him deliriously, her eyes sliding shut as she passed out. Shaking his head, Guy hefted the unconscious Connie into his arms. The rest of the team showed up, having heard the scuffle from the dorms. They looked around at the senior lying crumpled on the ground and writhing in pain, at the dishevelled-looking Guy, and then at Connie in Guy's arms.

"Dude…" Fulton said, amazed. Guy walked up to the team, pausing in front of them.

"We need to get her back to the dorm," Guy said calmly, "I think the bastard put sedatives into her drink."

Julie led the way, escorting the rest of her team into the room she shared with Connie. The quietness of the dorm suggested the dance was still going, and that the teachers would possibly be too busy with supervising the event to bother checking the dorms too often. Guy set Connie down on her bed, and Julie got to work shooing the bulk of the team out. They were reluctant to leave, but Julie managed to convince them she would call if she needed help.

"It was lucky you were there," Julie said to Guy as he sunk with his back against Julie's bed.

"I should've gone to the stupid dance," Guy moaned. Julie shook her head, placing a hand on Guy's shoulder.

"You know Connie better than most of us," she stated, "even if you were still her boyfriend she would've told you that she can look after herself, and not to baby her."

Guy sighed heavily, running his hands through his wavy hair. Julie sank down next to her teammate, and followed his gaze to the prone form of Connie.

"You should go get cleaned up," Julie said after a few silent minutes, "you look a mess and Orion may kill you if you don't get those bruises under control."

Guy shrugged, and slowly got to his feet. "I'll come round in the morning," he said. Julie nodded and smiled, before waving him off out the door.

When Guy arrived in his dorm, Russ was waiting.

"Damn Germaine," Russ exclaimed, "looks like you got as good as you gave."

"Yeah," Guy said absently, looking at his injuries in the mirror on the back of the door. Russ shrugged, pulling out a plastic box of first aid supplies from under his bed and offering them to his roommate.

The next morning Guy awoke to a knock at the door. It was a rare Saturday where no hockey games were scheduled due to the newness of the school year, and the majority of the Ducks were enjoying the sleep-in. Guy saw that his clock read 7:45am, and slowly rolled out of bed to answer the door. The hastily-made bed next to him indicated that Russ was already up, and possibly watching the Saturday morning cartoons in the common room. He sighed, relieved the knock wasn't going to disturb the light-sleeper that Russ was known to be.

Connie stood at the door, looking pale and tired. Guy noticed that she was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and that her hair had been hastily put up into a pony tail.

"Can I come in?" she asked, stepping into the room when Guy nodded his consent. She sat down on Guy's bed and motioned for him to sit near her.

"I remember what happened last night," Connie began, "somehow that ass managed to spike my drink."

Guy nodded, urging Connie to continue. She looked down at her hands, and picked at her nails nervously.

"I could hear the fight, and I tried to get up to help but my body wasn't cooperating," she explained, "I was worried, but then you came in and I felt that it was gonna be ok."

Guy noticed that her eyes were watering, and he placed a hand over her own. She looked up at him and smiled, the same warm smile she shared only with him when they had been dating.

"Thank you," she said, weaving her arms around the broadening shoulders of the blonde sitting next to her. Guy responded, pulling Connie into a comforting embrace. She settled into the embrace, placing her head on his shoulder.

"Forgive me?" Guy asked suddenly, causing Connie to look up at him.

"For what?" Connie asked, surprised.

"For getting involved," he replied, "I know you can fight your own battles and…"

"If you hadn't," Connie interrupted, "this would've been much worse." She slightly pulled away, and leaned up towards Guy. She kissed him gently on the cheek and threw her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry you got hurt," she whispered, noticing the slight bruises along his jaw line. Amazingly, Guy noted, his opponent hadn't managed to hit him in the eyes.

"I'm not," Guy replied, holding Connie by the shoulders and pulling her slightly away so he could look her in the eye, "I'd do anything for you, even fight for you if you wanted me to."

"You would?" she asked.

"I would," he affirmed, "only for you."

Connie smiled, and once again threw herself into Guy's arms. He kissed the top of her head, and closed his eyes. He could feel Connie's hands on his face, carefully avoiding putting too much pressure on the bruises along his cheeks and jaw. Their faces drew closer.

The door swung open, "Hey Guy, the day's a-wastin'!" sang Averman, flanked by Charlie. The two stopped at the sight before them, confused at first, and then grinning madly.

Guy felt the ironic déjà vu of the situation, and was about to make a loud protest at the intrusion until Connie pushed her lips against his own. He could hear Averman and Charlie laughing, and he flipped them the bird without breaking contact with the brunette girl he was kissing. With that, he heard the door shut and the laughter continue down the corridor.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm back at university for my final year, which means I should be writing something academic-related rather than writing fanfiction but when the muse strikes… This was kinda inspired by "I'd come for you" by Nickelback, so listen to that if you want some background music and if you don't like 'em then it's not essential. Also, Happy Valentine's Day… or Singles Awareness Day!


	6. The Nameless Girl

Title: The Nameless Girl

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just temporarily borrowing for my own (and maybe others') entertainment.

Author's Note: It's been a while since the muse has struck me, been hitting the books way too much. Thanks to HollyWar for reviewing – go read the Adam/Julie goldmine!  
Also consider listening to the Broadway musical version of Green Day's 'Whatsername' as background – blame it for my muse!

* * *

There was once a girl Portman knew in Chicago. He doesn't remember where he met her, or how, but just that there was a time during the summer after senior year that she became a fixture in his life. They would spend the long summer days together, sometimes skating, other times beating the heat in the shade of the parks – because neither of them would've been caught dead at the local swimming pools. He remembers that they liked the same kinds of music, and she admired the tattoo he had – originally just drawn on in permanent marker until his eighteenth birthday when his mother decided that a tattoo was possibly healthier than the years of exposure to Sharpie ink he had already racked up. He sat next to her as she got a tattoo of her own, laughing in amusement as she exclaimed how ticklish the procedure was. His own, in comparison, had caused him to feel like the whole area was on fire, and then an odd numbness.

Still vivid in his mind after all these years were the kisses they shared. Sometimes sweet and tender, but other times raw and needy. They spoke briefly of their lives; his life as a boarder in Minnesota at Eden Hall, and hers at a local high school with slightly over-protective and loving parents. She couldn't wait to go to college where she could experience life for herself. He had to explain that boarding school didn't give him as much freedom as one would've expected, free from parental influences yet still under the scrutiny of adults who expected nothing but excellence. Without his friends and team mates, high school would've been hell if he'd had to do it all by himself. It was that fear that kept him in Chicago for so long in freshman year.

She'd had a few boyfriends during her high school years, some kept secret for fear of embarrassment or disapproval. She didn't elaborate much, other than to say she now thought of most of them as idiotic jerks. He'd had something brief with Julie Gaffney in junior year until they decided friendship was a better deal, and one or two other girlfriends he had found something in common with. Yet none of those relationships held any of the pull he'd felt with this girl. Maybe he had spent too many evenings eavesdropping on Connie and Julie's conversations with Linda and their non-hockey female friends, most of them seemingly about boys and love. Too many thoughts of what constituted true love and soul mates, if such things existed. He asked the girl and she had shrugged, stating that she'd believe it if and when she saw it for herself.

The summer wore on, and eventually Portman and his girl made love in his childhood bed. Although he never admitted it to her, it was his first time going as far as they had and he managed to bluff his way through without her discovering the truth. In hindsight, he wonders if things may have been different if he divulged that piece of information to her. Possibly not. They had spent an uninterrupted weekend together, holed up in his house after his parents had taken off for a weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Except for the love making it was as if he was hanging out with a close friend; eating pizza, watching movies, and talking well into the night.

Before heading to college – she was off to Ohio, and he to New York – they exchanged email addresses, promising black-and-blue to contact the other. He had sent an email once he had settled in, and waited for her to reply. She did so a few months later, apologising, and explaining she had met a guy and that they were giving things a go. He wished her luck. Although he never admitted it to his friends, it did hurt. Everything felt natural with her, like she could've been 'the one' that the girls constantly spoke of during high school, and that a few of the guys were starting to talk about in college. So the girl was banished into the vaults of Portman's memories, and eventually faded from his immediate thoughts. The girl didn't contact him after that, and Portman took it as a sign to follow suit.

College ended, and Portman ended up back in Chicago once more. It was summer once again, and his thoughts turned to the now nameless girl. Her hazel eyes and light brown hair had stuck clearly in his memory, as well as the small smattering of freckles across her nose. He wondered if he would recognise her if he ever saw her in the street, if she had changed much in the four years since. Maybe she had married the college guy, maybe she had met someone else. For all Portman knew, she could've died in a car smash and he would never be any the wiser. However, as he was walking back to his car following a shopping trip with his mother, he caught sight of a woman with light brunette hair. He shook his head, clearing it. The familiarity of the woman was a mere trick of the light, he thought. If it had been her, however, would she have recognised him? It wasn't like he had changed much since eighteen; except to have a little more muscle, facial hair, and a shorter hair style.

As he drove home, he tried to imagine the girl as a filled out woman, and the memories of their time together flooded back. It was then he realised that he couldn't turn back the clock even if he had wanted to. The girl would remain a summer romance, nameless and forever eighteen in his mind. She would've still met college guy, and still wanted to try things with him regardless of anything Portman could've done. Portman wasn't sure if he held any regrets about it, he'd learnt a lot that summer about himself. Perhaps if he asked his friends and former team mates, they would say how it obviously wasn't meant to be, or how it was an experience he was meant to learn from. It would've depended on the person he asked. He knew that one day he would meet a woman who'd embody the pull, the friendship, and the love that he had tasted with the girl; that it'd be more than just a summer between two teenagers only beginning to find themselves within the world. As bitter-sweet as the memories were for Portman, they were fond and held promise. Still, wherever the girl was he hoped she was happy and that maybe, sometimes, she thought back fondly of him too.


End file.
